


Earthbound

by numb3r5ev3n



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Amnesia, Canon-typical incestuous vibes, Classic Rock, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consentacles, F/M, Hippies, Multi, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Under-negotiated Kink, Violence, Violins, aegis police procedural, depiction of life in Chicago, hotboxing a blanket fort, not incest but not not incest, psychonauts - Freeform, space cops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numb3r5ev3n/pseuds/numb3r5ev3n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was to be a hearing to determine the fates of Balem and Titus Abrasax for their attempts to usurp her rightful claim upon the Earth. If Jupiter Jones was going to have to deal with them again, then she wanted it to be on her terms. On her turf. Not via FTL hologram, but actually on the Earth itself. She wanted them to see firsthand the people whose lives they were so willing to snuff out to make their youth serum. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Say You Want A Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for Jupiter Ascending. I want to thank all the awesome fellow fans on Tumblr for their discussions regarding theories and headcanons for this awesome movie. Several fanon theories have already begun circulating in the weeks since this film debuted in theaters; my own take on many of these will appear in this work. While I love the idea of Jupiter/Caine immensely, I have such strong feels for Jupiter/Balem that I'm going to try my damndest to OT3 them. All of the chapter names are song lyrics. I'll have to get around to posting an annotated list when there are enough chapters to warrant doing so.

_"Everybody understands Mickey Mouse. Few understand Hermann Hesse. Only a handful understood Albert Einstein. And nobody understood Emperor Norton."_

_\---Principia Discordia_

_..._

 

The first bit of news that shook Jupiter’s return to her somewhat normal life came to her through a dispatch from Aegis, via Stinger.

Balem Abrasax had survived.

She still didn’t know how - but at this point, it didn’t really matter. Balem was currently holed up in his alcazar on Titan, the largest of Saturn’s moons, and was more or less under house arrest. Aegis was watching him closely. Captain Tsing had promised her that the moment he made a move, she’d know.

It hadn’t taken her long to come to a decision regarding her own life. Her dealings with Aegis, her growing relationship with Caine, and her friendship with Stinger Apini had made it an inevitability in her mind - before long, she had to admit that there was really only one thing she wanted to do. She enlisted in Aegis.

Stinger told her that it had once been common for Entitled families to send their younger scions off to the Legion, though the practice had fallen out of vogue eons ago. However, it was highly unusual for a member of the Entitled class to serve under the Aegis directly. In all his time, Stinger had only heard of a handful who had. Those who joined were typically appointed to an officer’s rank straight away, usually Captain. Jupiter wanted no special treatment on account of her status. If she was going to be a space cop, she wanted to prove herself. 

Stinger still hadn’t gotten out of the habit of calling her “your majesty.” It was just something that he was going to have to work on as her training progressed. She still didn’t mind it from Caine, though that was a completely different dynamic altogether that had nothing to do with her current position in Aegis.

Her current rank was Lance-Corporal, and Stinger was her commanding officer while she resided on the Earth. Caine and Stinger saw to her training, though she knew she would eventually have to go to boot camp somewhere in the stars. She was going to be a _space_ cop, after all.

She still had no idea what she was going to tell her family when the time came. For now, she was splitting her time between training, and her usual duties as a part of her family’s cleaning crew.

Kalique Abrasax sent friendly messages and inquired about her well-being. Jupiter responded to these with cautious optimism. It would have been nice to think she was sincere about wanting to be friends - but from what Jupiter had learned about the Abrasax family and its history, she knew she couldn’t afford to trust too much. There was still a chance that Kalique was playing a deeper game than either of her brothers; and if she was, Jupiter didn’t want to get caught up in it. And she wanted nothing to do whatsoever with the Abrasax family business.

It didn’t take long for her to learn just how entrenched the use of RegenX-E was in interstellar society. It was everywhere, under a plethora of brand names, in different forms and strengths. It had shocked her to realize that even people she’d come to like and respect used it - Stinger had some in his medical kit, and it had been used to treat their wounds on Captain Tsing’s ship following her fateful confrontation with Balem.

Captain Tsing had seemed puzzled at her reaction when she found out, and Jupiter realized with growing unease that RegenX was everywhere, and that its use was as normal as applying antibiotic ointment or a trip to a day spa. It was an inexorably accepted part of their culture. It just _was_.

As her brain caught up with all the weirdness which had been dumped on it during the past few weeks, other implications began to make themselves uncomfortably known in Jupiter’s mind. She’d been scrubbing a toilet when it really, finally dawned on her that she was positioned directly at the top of the pyramid-structure Balem had spoken of. Unless something changed, she was officially A Part Of The Problem. She was trying not to be.

For a brief moment, Jupe had entertained the mental image of herself as a kind of Conquering Savior Queen of Outer Space, freeing the seeded planets from their Entitled overlords; but even then, she knew how flawed that kind of thinking could be, and how many countless lives would  be needlessly lost in the ensuing war, most of them Commoners and Sims and Splices - and it _would_ be a war. There was absolutely no way that she could expect millennia-old space overlords and overladies to just give up the promise of eternity without a fight.

She hashed the possibilities over with Caine and Stinger and Kiza, and nothing added up to a solution that wouldn’t have been a total disaster for the ‘verse at large. She’d even asked if someone had ever tried to find a substitute for RegenX-E.

“Of course,” Stinger told her. “There used to be compound made from gold that had a similar effect - but a lot more subtle. It wasn’t like taking a RegenX bath. And there were...side effects. The main problem is that there’s finite amount of gold in the known ‘verse. It has to be ingested much more often. You’d have to strip mine every single planet that has it to support the needs of the Entitled and the Commonwealth, and eventually you’d run out.”

“While people are an expendable, renewable resource,” said Jupiter darkly. Stinger nodded.

Well, there went that idea.

A horrible thought had occurred to her - if she did introduce Earth people to the larger ‘verse around them, if she somehow made them a part of interstellar society, how many of them would jump at the chance for an extended lifespan, even if it meant that people just like them a few hundred light years away would be sacrificed for it?

Jupiter was quickly losing what little illusions she had left about human nature. She knew what a lot of them would choose, if given the chance. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

It was all so messed up. Just thinking about it made her head hurt. As fun as it was to pretend that everything was normal  - well, as normal as could be expected, for a genetic intergalactic space-queen legionnaire recruit who now owned a pair of gravity boots and went dancing with her Lycantant boyfriend on regular across the Chicago skyline - Jupiter Jones knew it couldn’t last.

She was horrified to think about how close Titus had come to succeeding in his schemes, and how easily she had fallen for them. At least Balem had been up front about his hostility towards her. From her continued study of the Entitled code and her newfound place within it, Jupiter was aware that she was well within her rights to retaliate against them, as well as what forms of retaliation were considered appropriate. It was absolutely the last thing she wanted to think about at the moment; but the Commonwealth insisted that justice be served.

There was to be a hearing to determine the fates of Balem and Titus. Capital was everything to the Entitled. From what Jupiter had read, it was highly likely that they would be compelled by Commonwealth law to forfeit most of their planetary properties to her - forcing them to try and work their way back into her good graces if they wanted to see any of it again, ever. Or - it would simply mark the continuation of what had become a covert Abrasax civil war, meaning she would probably be dodging assassination attempts for the rest of her life; however long that ended up being.

Then she had an idea.

If she was going to have to deal with them again, then she wanted it to be on her terms. On her turf. Not via FTL hologram, but actually on the Earth itself. She wanted them to see firsthand the people whose lives they were so willing to snuff out to make their youth serum.

What could possibly go wrong?


	2. And The Man In The Back Said Everyone Attack

They’d decided to hold the hearing in Caine’s old hideout in Willis Tower - the place where he’d taken Jupiter after the attack at the fertility clinic. Less chance of casualties and innocent bystanders that way if things got ugly. They’d cleaned it up and put in a conference table and everything. She hoped this place would serve adequately for the proceedings that were about to take place.

Jupiter was wearing her dress uniform. Caine had positioned himself behind her, in a subordinate position - though his size would allow him to cover her in the case of an attack. Stinger stood at her side.

Advocate Bob from the Hall of Titles was present, as a legal counsel and observer. It was sort of nice to see a friendly face from that whole ordeal, after everything that had happened.

Kalique showed first, descending from her transport on a beam of light, to step through the liquified glass of the windowpane. She was there by invitation, because this was an Abrasax family matter. Depending on the ruling, it was even possible that she would even benefit personally from the proceedings. In fact, Jupiter figured that she was probably counting on it.

She looked impeccably fabulous - as Jupiter was pretty certain was always the case. She had chosen businesslike Earth attire over her usual flowing gowns, and the effect was just as stunning.

“This is truly exciting!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never been on a seeded world before while it was still inhabited. Thank you for this opportunity.”

Okay, that was just _off_. Here she was, on a planet full of people she knew had been destined to eventually be harvested - and she was burbling about how _excited_ she was. Accompanying her was another Splice, who Jupiter remembered seeing on Cerise. Kalique introduced him as Malidictes. His manner was grave and reserved as the two of them took a place off to her right.

Titus showed next. He was wearing a red tracksuit. An expensive one, by the looks of it, probably in the hundreds of dollars - but a tracksuit, nonetheless. He grinned roguishly at Jupiter as he entered with his Splice servitant Famulus, whose smirk could have earned her a seat at the lunch table with the Plastics. Jupiter put on her best resting bitch face in response.

“A pleasure to see you again, Jupiter,” he said, as if he hadn’t already tried to deceive her in the most horribly calculated and underhanded fashion, or hadn’t tossed Caine out of an airlock. “I must say, you look none the worse for wear from your little encounter with our dear brother. I’m not sure the same can be said for him.”

“Be _nice_ , Titus.” Kalique gently chided him. Titus just smiled and winked at his sister.

“I wish you’d let me kill him.” Caine whispered. Jupiter just nodded, keeping a tight rein on her anger. Titus Abrasax wasn’t worth it. Really, she hadn’t wanted to speak to him, see him, or even think about him ever again. She hoped she wouldn’t have to, after the hearing.

From her learnings thus far, Jupiter was able to assess the subtle game that was playing out here. From her promptness, Jupe knew that Kalique was playing the part of Seraphi Abrasax’s loyal daughter, completely supportive of her mother’s proven genetic recurrence.

By comparison, the amount of time it had taken Titus to arrive - well before the deadline, but well after Kalique - suggested a casual apathy about his current situation - as if nothing Jupiter could do to him would end up hurting him in the long run, and that he was humoring her just by being there. She was determined to prove him wrong.

Balem would show up before the deadline - only just, a fraction of a second before.

Jupiter suddenly realized that she’d missed a glorious opportunity. She and Caine and Stinger  should have waited until Gemma and Phylo radioed them that all three of the Primaries were present, before breezing in 15 minutes late with Starbucks.

She was still mentally kicking herself for not having done that, when Balem finally arrived.

He was spectacularly attired in a black Burberry suit, pristine white dress shirt, a black tie threaded through with gold, and shoes that probably cost more than the Bolotnikov family together made in an entire month. Despite what Titus had said, there was not a single mark on him from their struggle back at the refinery on Jupiter, not a hair out of place. It was surreal, seeing him in Earthly clothes; especially compared to the dazzling outfit he’d been wearing when she’d confronted him last.

Jupe had to admit, he looked good.

Two Sargorns accompanied him through the windowpane, followed by Chicanery Night. Jupiter wondered how many of Balem’s other servitants had made it out when the refinery blew.

Then his eyes locked with Jupiter’s, and she understood exactly what Titus was getting at. Insanity blazed at her, with the intensity of the sun’s glare refracting off of a sheet of superhardened polar ice. His eyes moved to fix upon her rank insignia, and she was frankly surprised that it didn’t catch fire right then and there.

“I see you have given yourself over to the Aegis entirely, _Lance-Corporal_ Jones,” he whispered, acid dripping from his voice at the mention of her rank.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Jupiter retorted, determined not to let him cow her or stare her down. “Maybe more of the Entitled should enlist. See the ‘verse. Keep the peace. You know...actually helping people out? Might do you some good for a change.”

Balem’s gaze flicked over her in a way that raised the hairs at the back of her neck. He shot a sidelong glance at Kalique.

“Dear sister, I would appreciate it if you would inFORM MISS JONES THAT I DO NOT TAKE KINDLY TO BEING DIRECTLY ADDRESSED BY A MERE LANCE-CORPORAL,” Balem’s sneer wheeling up into a shout mid-sentence.

 _“Balem,”_ Kalique responded, in much the same exasperated tone as she’d taken with Titus.

“If your royal highnesses are ready to begin, Justice West will be with us shortly,” Advocate Bob interjected.

The Justice presiding at the hearing materialized as an FTL hologram, presumably from his chamber on Ourous - the only person here who was permitted to do so. Justice West was a scholarly-looking black man with a great deal of grey in his hair and his beard. Jupiter wondered how much of it came from having to deal with the Entitled on a regular basis.

“If I may have your attention, please. It is the decision of this co-” and that was as far as he got, before his image burst apart into a scatter of gold pixels. Jupiter barely had time to register this before Advocate Bob screamed.

At least, it _looked_ like he was screaming. There was no sound coming out of his mouth that she could hear - but then she heard Caine growl behind her. She spun around to see him with his palms pressed to his ears, grimacing with his eyes shut tight.

“Caine!” Jupiter exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”

“ArrrrrrAGGH-RUN!” Caine snarled. Then his eyes snapped open, glazed over, with no sense or recognition left in them.

“Oh beeswax, not again!” Stinger exclaimed, tackling Caine.

“YOU!” Balem shrieked, looking at Caine as if noticing him for the first time. His face was suddenly white with stark terror. He dived underneath the conference table, clutching his throat.

Kalique calmly pulled a gun out of her handbag and aimed it at Advocate Bob, pulling the trigger. A BOOM sounded, and Bob was thrown backwards by a sonic wave similar to the one that one of that had knocked Jupiter unconscious weeks before in Stinger’s cornfield. He collided with the wall and collapsed there, like a rag doll.

One of the Sargorns dived in under the table after Balem, grabbed him by the shoulders, and took off through the window. The other one took Mr. Night, dashing out after them.

Titus and Famulus were nowhere to be seen.

Jupiter stood her ground in shock.

“Caine,” she implored, reaching out to him. “It’s okay. It’s _me_.”

“ _Run,_ Your Majesty!” Stinger shouted. “I’m not sure I can hold him -”

Caine broke out of Stinger’s grasp and lunged at her, teeth bared. Another BOOM sounded from Kalique’s stungun, throwing him off of his feet. Gemma and Phylo stormed into the room, weapons drawn. Caine staggered up off of the floor, only to crumple back down into a heap. He shuddered, curling up into fetal position.

“Caine,” Jupiter said again, helplessly.


	3. Open Fire 'Cause I Love You To Death

Caine wouldn’t stop shaking. Jupiter hovered over him, wanting nothing more than to cradle him in her arms until the tremors stopped.

“Give him some space, Your Majesty, please.” Stinger asked her; for her own protection as much as Caine’s composure, Jupiter knew. She couldn’t help it.

“Captain, there was an assassination attempt and the hearing was disrupted. Titus Abrasax and his servitant have fled. Captain, do you read?” Gemma was speaking into her comlink. “There’s no connection. The carrier signal must have been dropped.”

“Was it jammed? Can you trace the interruption back to its source?” Phylo asked.

“Perhaps they can tell us,” Kalique said, gesturing towards the window. Jupiter glanced over to to see several shapes speeding in their general direction.

“Incoming!” Phylo shouted. “Your Highnesses, get down!”

The window and much of the surrounding wall was blown apart by gunfire. Gemma flipped the conference table, giving them all some temporary cover. Jupe pulled her sidearm and joined her compatriots in returning fire, as Stinger dragged Caine and the fallen form of Advocate Bob to relative safety at the back of the room.

Kalique’s servitant Malidictes calmly opened his briefcase as bullets careened past them, and quickly began to assemble and load a pair of matched firearms which resembled small, brassy rifles. He handed one to Kalique, who’d tucked the stungun in the waist of her skirt, and brought the other one to bear on their attackers.

Outside, Jupiter could see that their attackers - gravbike riders - had been engaged by one of the transports.

One of them made it through, hurling themselves headlong in through the window and throwing themselves from their bike. Jupiter grabbed Kalique and hauled them both out of the way as it smashed into the table.

The invader was a masked figure - and as he or she got to their feet, Jupiter caught a glimpse of a symbol on the assassin’s chest; a flat grey circle on a white field. She could feel their eyes bearing down on her through their goggles, when a bullet from Kalique’s gun caught them right between the eyes, neatly severing the nose-strap of their facegear as it struck home. Kalique smiled, primly triumphant as she reloaded her gun - as if this were a game of lawn-darts at a garden party, instead of a deadly firefight.

"You're really good at that," Jupiter observed, somewhat in shock.

"Well, yes. The servitants and I sometimes play wargames back on Cerise," Kalique explained. "We use dye pellets for ammunition. I'll invite you next time, Jupiter. it's great fun. I've never actually been in a real fight before, with live ammo. I believe Malidictes and I can help cover you, if those of you who are able to fly would like to go see what the fuss is all about."

“Come with me, Lance-Corporal!” Stinger ordered, rushing towards the window. Jupiter followed, activating her boots as Stinger’s wings unfurled.

 _Yay, he remembered!_ Jupiter thought as they soared and skated, respectively, into a pitched battle. Balem’s transport hung uselessly off to the side, while Kalique’s elegant ship had joined Captain Tsing’s in raining fire down upon the enemy. Titus’s ship was gone.

 _Yeah,_ Jupiter thought, _three guesses as to who probably set all this up, and the first two don’t count...._

 ...

 

The Sargorn who had fled with Balem was named Tzikarus. He’d been one of the first out of the refinery. He was quickly outstipping Gimlet, who’d been one of the last. It was Gimlet who had intercepted Balem’s fall, Gimlet who had somehow gotten him to a lifepod, Gimlet who now carried Mr. Night as they flew.

“Tzikarus, wait!” Gimlet called out, his voice fading as they left him behind. He was a slow flyer. This was the only reason why Balem had lived to attend this farce today.

How could he not have known?

All of the intel regarding Caine Wise had been provided to him. He’d seen the Splice when he’d gone back over the footage of the clinic...and yet, he _hadn’t_. He’d been so focused on _mother_ that everything else had escaped him.

[ _Mother standing there in that uniform, mocking him from beyond the grave through the chambermaid whose genes she now inhabited_ -]

Nor had he caught more than a fleeting glimpse of him during his attack on the refinery. The Lycantant had been beneath notice, had been a black hole in his mind.

Gimlet was gone from view by the time that Tzikarus began his descent. Balem was still too shaken to notice, his mind reeling. He’d never been able to recall a clear memory of the incident. He could not remember the face of the Lycantant, not until moments ago when it had all started happening again.

Had he been _blanked?_

The record of the incident had been sealed when the Splice’s superior had spoken up for him. His spies had no way of knowing that Caine had been the one. No one had said to him, _“By the way, your lordship, this is the very same Lycantant who attacked you and nearly tore out your throat,_ ” at any point.

He remembered Jupiter’s face, her shock and dismay as her Lycantant lover’s eyes glazed over, his thoughts overridden by the Sim’s high-frequency signal.

_Jupiter was unaware of the plot._

Mother had always expected treachery, even from those closest to her - especially if they’d shared her bed. He wondered if she still lived, or if the Splice had finished the job he’d obviously been planted there to do.

_Mother trusted no one._

If she lived, she would have to reacquaint herself with treachery in all its forms. Not that it would save her.

 _The Earth is mine by right!_ Balem silently swore to himself, yet again.

Tzikarus’s landing rattled Balem’s teeth, bringing him back to their current predicament. They’d set down in an alleyway, far away from the ship that had brought them here.

“WHERE ARE WE? WHY HAVE WE STOPPED?” Balem demanded. “WHERE IS THE TRANSPORT?”

“I could have dropped your lordship,” Tzikarus said, grabbing him by the shoulder and slamming him against a brick wall. “It would have been a lot quicker that way. I want to take my time. I want to _enjoy_ this. Tskalikin was my uncle,” the Sargorn rumbled. “Oh, and your brother sends his regards.”

Balem shrieked as Tzikarus's razor-sharp claws ripped open his coat and shirt, digging bloody furrows from his neck to his waist.

“Hey!” a voice shouted from behind them. Delirious with pain, Balem spotted the figure of a large man in the alley behind him.

“Mind your own business, Terrsie!” Tzikarus growled.

The shock that Balem expected to see on the man’s face at the site of the Sargorn never showed. Instead, there was something - relief? Vindication? that seemed to propel the man forward out of the shadows to face them. Dark-skinned - his recent ancestors had most likely come from the African continent.

“Put the guy down and step away. This is your only warning.”

“You are interfering in a personal matter,” Tzikarus snarled.

The man looked up to a point above the Sargorn’s head, and nodded. Tzikarus glanced upward, following the man’s gaze. A missile whizzed from somewhere out of Balem’s line of sight. It struck Tzikarus in the nose with a paffing sound, exploding in a splatter of color and a shower of sparkles.

  
“Let’s go!” the man shouted, charging in as Tzikarus gagged and scrubbed at his eyes. He ducked, snatched up Balem, and ran.

Balem swooned as the pain surged, overwhelming him. There was a roar, and everything went dark.


	4. And To The One You Thought Was On Your Side

Jupiter stood, regarding the bodies of the fallen assassins with a feeling of numb horror. The corpses that were recoverable had been pulled into a row in the makeshift conference room - one, in particular, was a stain on the pavement below. The Keepers were taking care of that one.

Jupiter had seen him fall, had locked eyes with him as he tumbled from his gravbike. She’d deflected a gunshot with her shield exactly the way she’d been trained to do, had commanded the assassin to halt... 

...and the shot had ricocheted into the bike itself, knocking it spinning down to the street below.

Thankfully, no pedestrians had been hit. By now, Jupiter was aware of the subconscious instinct that Terrsie humans had been conditioned for over countless generations; a kind of mute, blind impulse to flee when stuff like this was going on. Caine had told her before that they typically didn’t remember, that no one believed the ones who did.

Right now, she envied them. Jupiter fervently wished she could forget everything that had just transpired.

The attackers were aliens of a type she had never seen, with horns and goatlike faces, and compound insectoid eyes. Still, she’d recognized the panic on the killer’s face as he plummeted to his doom. She felt that the moment would be forever etched upon her mind, even if she lived to be as old as Seraphi had been.

Yeah, the guy had been trying to kill them, and had fired upon her when she and Stinger had emerged from the broken window and entered the fray. It didn’t change the fact that she, Jupiter Jones, had caused the death of another living being. 

 _What did you think you were signing up for?_ a little voice inside her head asked. She knew the Aegis frequently had to engage in violence, and had trained for it. She had no doubt that  Stinger and Caine’s training had saved her life today during the attack. She just hadn't been ready for the real thing, for the actual reality of a life-or-death combat situation - unlike Kalique, apparently, who was cheerfully chatting with Gemma as the two of them stood guard by the open window with Maladictes.

“Who are they?” Jupiter wondered out loud as she studied the bodies.

“At a guess, I’d say they were mercenaries working for Lord Titus,” Stinger said. “I don’t recognize their emblem, though. We should be able to find out more when we get the signal to the ship re-established.”

All of the attackers’ uniforms bore identical badges of a flat grey circle on a field of white. To Jupiter, they looked more like members of a cult than a troop of mercenaries.

Caine and Advocate Bob had been moved to the far end of the room. Bob was still offline; Gemma had explained that the blast from Kalique’s stungun had caused him to reboot. Caine sat in a corner with his face hidden in his hands, which had been shackled at the wrist at his own request. His ankles were restrained as well. He wouldn’t look at anyone, least of all her. He still hadn’t stopped shaking.

 _What do we do if Bob triggers him again?_ Jupiter thought. She had no doubt that this was what had happened. She knew that tampering with a Sim Advocate was a serious offense that carried a huge sentence - way beyond a tax grievance, for sure. She wondered how it would stack up against Titus’s other crimes.

“You did well today, your majesty,” Stinger told her. "You've never seen death happen up close like that before. The first battle is always the hardest. You'll be okay."

She didn't feel like she'd be okay. She felt sick to her stomach; and yet, at the same time she felt like a horrible phony.

 _I didn’t sign up to be a killer,_ Jupiter thought. _I signed up to protect people. To keep the peace._

Jupiter knew she should have figured this might also mean killing people on occasion. But then, she hadn't even been able to kill Balem back at the refinery. It was impossible not to think of the fallen mercenary, or cultist, or whatever in the same context. 

_He looked me in the face. He looked me in the face as he fell, and he was afraid._

_Just like Balem._

She drifted back towards Caine and sat down beside him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. She wished she could just hug him; they both needed a hug right now. 

“No, you shouldn't be near me! It’s not safe,” Caine whimpered.

“Caine, it’s not your fault. This is something that somebody did to you,” Jupiter said. She moved, kneeling in front of him. She reached up and took his hands, pulling them away from his face. Caine avoided her eyes, casting his downward. His face was streaked with tears.

“After the first time, they told me I was defective,” he said.

“What if they lied?” Jupiter asked. “You  _didn't_  snap. Advocate Bob triggered you. What if whoever genomegeneered you created you as some sort of secret weapon?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kalique look up in her direction. It was only a split-second glance, but it was there.

“Titus was the one who got you out of the Deadlands and sent you to get me and take me to him,” Jupiter said, loudly enough to reach everyone in the room. “Why you, specifically, unless he’d already used you before?”

“Before the incident, Caine was the best hunter in the Legion,” Stinger said. “Technically, he is again, since you reinstated him.”

“Who was the Entitled that you bit?" Jupiter asked Caine. "Was it someone that Titus had a grudge against?”

“It was Lord Balem,” Caine said, his voice breaking.

“Why didn't you tell me before?” Jupiter asked, her mind reeling at this bombshell.

“I..I didn't remember,” Caine said. “If you had asked me, and you did, I could’ve told you I bit a Royal. But I couldn't see his face in my mind. It was just a blur. I didn't remember it was him until I heard the whistle...but I didn't _know_ that I didn't remember. I just didn't think about it." 

“Stinger, you had to have known. Why didn’t you say anything?” Jupiter asked. She turned to look at him when he didn't answer. His stunned expression raised alarm bells in Jupiter’s mind.

“Of course I knew. I was the one who spoke up for him,” Stinger said, his voice thick with confusion. “Why wouldn't I remember something like that?” His brow creased, and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly.

“This...is super weird,” Jupiter said. “Kalique, you had to have known that Balem was bitten by a Lycantant. He’s your brother.”

“I was told he'd been attacked, yes. But I was never told the Lycantant’s name, or given a description. Balem hid himself away for years after the attack. He hasn't spoken of it since. His voice has never been the same.” Kalique said.

“Would Titus send a Lycantant to kill his own brother?” Jupiter asked. “Wait a minute...what am I saying? He tried to trick me into marrying him so he could kill me and claim the Earth. Balem had the Earth before. Of course.” 

Jupiter leaned in towards Caine until their foreheads were almost touching. She took his hands in hers again. 

“We need to get in touch with the splicer who made you,” she said. “We might even be able to find out if a recode will fix it. Whatever we find, I bet it has Titus’s fingerprints all over it.”

“Speak of the devil,” Stinger remarked. Jupiter looked back towards the window just in time to see Captain Diomika Tsing step out of the levitation beam, with a shackled, frightened-looking Titus Abrasax in tow.

 


	5. I'm Tellin Y'all It's Sabotage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has taken me a while to write. Since I started it, the concept of the Eternal Recurrence as proposed by Neitzsche has come up a lot on Tumblr, particularly in a post by Tumblr user floatinginthelights. It seems like a lot of us in the fandom are on the same wavelength. 
> 
> The song being played later in the chapter is the 2112 Overture, by the band Rush. The chapter title is taken from the song Sabotage, by the Beastie Boys.
> 
> Also, obvious homage to the film "Attack The Block" is obvious.

It was just as well that Captain Tsing had come to collect them herself, because their communications network still wasn’t working. And it wasn’t just the channel to the ship, either; Gemma couldn’t couldn’t get an FTL message out to anywhere else in the region, nor was she receiving any. The FTL network itself was down. 

“How does someone take down the whole FTL network?” Jupiter asked.

“It probably isn’t the whole network, just the part here in this solar system,” Captain Tsing explained. “It still means we’re cut off until it’s fixed. We won’t be able to portal out without it. We’re effectively Earthbound,” she said.

The Aegis crew were having to communicate over plain old radio - which meant it was possible for their conversations to be picked up by anyone listening in on that frequency. 

A quarter of an hour later, they were all aboard Captain Tsing’s Aegis cruiser. Gemma and Phylo had gone to collect Balem’s servitants from his transport ship. So far, it looked like they were cooperating. Chicanery Night was another face that Jupiter could have gone her whole life without seeing again; but here he was, along with a Sargorn named Gimlet.

Balem was missing. Mr. Night told them that Balem’s other servitant Tzikarus had grabbed him and flown somewhere over the city. Gimlet had lost sight of them. No FTL network meant that they’d had no way of contacting either of them. Gimlet even offered to help look for him. He and Stinger were doing that now.

Tzikarus’s trail ended back at Titus’s transport, where they’d discovered the Sargorn’s cooling, glitter-paint spattered body with a bullethole through his skull. Titus had been caught in the act of trying to flee after eliminating this last loose end, only to find that his transport ship’s computer was just as impacted by the lack of FTL communications as the Aegis ship’s crew was. Famulus was nowhere to be seen. 

It all looked very, very bad for Titus.

“You must realize that your role in the attack is blatantly obvious, your lordship,” Captain Tsing told him, in what served as the ship’s interrogation room. Jupiter and Stinger were able to observe from a connected room via a viewport on the wall.

“If you give yourself up and tell us everything you know, you might be able to plead for leniency from the court,” Phylo said, hard on the heels of Captain Tsing’s statement. “We can’t promise anything, particularly if Lord Balem isn’t found - or if he isn’t found alive.”

“They have Famulus,” Titus exclaimed. “They took her! They said they’d kill her if I didn’t cooperate!”

“ _Who_ took her?” Captain Tsing demanded.

“They call themselves the Order of the Eternal Recurrence,” Titus explained. “They’re from a planet that my mother appropriated millennia ago and repurposed for seeding. The image of Famulus that you saw when I arrived was a projection. They have a way of doing it on-planet, without FTL. They told me they’d release her once they had proof that Jupiter Jones was dead. They’re hiding somewhere here in this city. You have to find her!” 

Jupiter had seen Titus’s skill at dissembling firsthand, when he’d convinced her to marry him in what he’d said was a bid to keep Balem and Kalique from harvesting his planets if he were to be killed in the intrigues in which the three of them were constantly embroiled. She’d had her misgivings back on his clipper, starting with the fact that he’d kidnapped her and increasing from there; but he’d been able to use her concern for the Earth as leverage against her mistrust.

Jupiter didn’t know why, but she had the feeling that Titus actually wasn’t lying this time - at least, not about this. 

“Let me see if I understand,” Captain Tsing replied, “You want us to believe that it was this Order who hatched this scheme, and you went along with it because they threatened your servitant? Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

“If they even suspect that I’m telling you anything, they _will_ kill her!” Titus bleated.

“And I suppose that your brother’s disappearance and the condition of the late Mr. Tzikarus is entirely coincidental?” Captain Tsing shot back at him.

“I have proof that Balem murdered our mother! I’m allowed to seek vengeance under the Entitled Code!” Titus protested.

“Oh _please_. You were brought to this planet to be sentenced for plotting to kill your mother’s recurrence,” Captain Tsing countered. “If you had proof that Balem was your mother’s killer, it was your duty to bring it to us, so that the court could decide what form of vengeance you were  allowed to take. If your brother is found alive, the court might even grant him the right of vengeance against _you_ for attempting to assassinate him.”

“I won’t say anything else without an Advocate present,” Titus said. 

“The efficacy of only Advocate we currently have access to has been compromised, because you had him sabotaged,” Captain Tsing responded. “The FTL network is down. We are cut off from the Commonwealth and from reinforcements of any kind, in a strange city on a primitive planet, thanks to your collaboration with this group.”

Titus seemed to deflate, slumping in his chair.

“They told me that they planned disrupt the signal from Ourous! They said nothing about taking down the whole network!” Titus insisted. “There must be other Houses involved! _They bought my debts!_ Where would they have found the capital for that, unless they had another Great House, or a conspiracy of smaller Houses bankrolling them? How could a band of terrorists have had the resources to bring down any part of the FTL network for this long without help?”

“Again, you should have come to us the moment they involved you in this. As it is, well...I’ll tell you now, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when this is all over.” She and Phylo exchanged glances. “We’re done here. Take him back to the brig.”

Jupiter approached Captain Tsing after Titus was marched away.

“Balem admitted to killing Seraphi Abrasax before the refinery exploded,” she said. “He told me she’d begged him to do it. The longer he talked about it, the more unhinged he got.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?" Captain Tsing asked. “He should have been charged for it!” 

“Well...he’d already tried to kill me, and he threatened my family. I guess I felt like he deserved to be charged for stuff he did to me in this lifetime?” Jupiter did not add that it had sounded like she might have had it coming, if all the things that Balem had told her about his mother's’ teachings were true.

“That would have been for the court to decide. Do you have any recollection of what actually happened?” Captain Tsing asked. 

“No. Is that even possible? Do people do that?” Jupiter asked her. 

“I’m told it’s more common as recurrences grow older. Also, there’s a drug that some take to reconnect with memories from their previous lives. It’s not very common now. Only Royals have access to it. You’d have to go to Ourous and submit a request to the Commonwealth. Any memories of the incident that you recovered would be admissible in court.” 

“I don’t think I want those memories,” Jupiter said.

 _Mom would have compared Seraphi to Stalin,_ she thought. _And Mom would have been wrong - because from the sound of things, she was much, much worse._

 

...

 

Advocate Bob was next. A scan of Advocate Bob's neural net while he was offline had revealed a subroutine which was set to go off the second that the signal from Ourous dropped;  programming designed to override his normal processes and emit the high-pitched sound which had triggered Caine.

Advocate Bob remembered nothing that had happened from the moment that Justice West’s projection had guttered out. He became a sobbing mess after being told what had happened, horrified at having been subverted and used as a pawn.

They interrogated Chicanery Night next, on the suspicion that Titus might have tried to tempt him to betray his master, as he had done with Tzikarus. Jupiter asked to be in the room with him during the questioning. It was to be her first interrogation as an officer of the Aegis.

“I was not approached by Lord Titus or any of his agents,” Mr. Night said stiffly. “I have served Lord Balem faithfully for over a century. If Titus had tried to buy me, I’d have reported it immediately.”

“What about Caine Wise?” Jupiter asked. “What do you remember about the attack? 

“You were there, Miss Jones. We both saw what happened when the Advocate triggered Mr. Wise.”

“I mean _before_. The attack on Balem. When Caine almost ripped out his throat!” she countered. “You were working for Balem back then, am I right?” Memory hit her, like a flashbulb. “You called each other by name! Back at my house, after you kidnapped my family.”

“Of course I knew who he was. I collected all the information about Mr. Wise that I could find, because of the threat he represented to Lord Balem,” Chicanery Night answered, but there was confusion and doubt in his eyes - the same look that she’d seen on Stinger’s face, when she asked him about the attack.

“I think I would have remembered if Mr. Wise had ever attacked Lord Balem! I have served him for so long…” he paused, confusion turning to panic as his white-knuckled hands gripped the table. “I should have remembered,” he stammered. “There was a record of a court-martial...but it was sealed...the identity of the Royal he attacked was hidden...” he trailed off.

“Everyone knows that Caine attacked a Royal - but no one remembers that it was Balem,” Jupiter said. She studied Mr. Night’s face, memorizing the sick, dawning horror she saw there, the inward-searching eyes as he ransacked his memories for something he knew _should_ be there...and _wasn’t._

“It’s...it’s not possible. I would have remembered!” Mr. Night insisted. In that moment, Jupiter actually felt sorry for him. 

Decades later, centuries, Jupiter would forge herself a reputation within the Aegis as an expert in recognizing victims who’d had their memories blanked, based on this experience.

Mr. Night was still shaking when Phylo escorted him out.

...

 

Caine was released to aid in the search for Balem. With his assistance, they tracked Balem’s scent to a blind alley. They’d found traces of his blood congealing alongside droplets of what turned out to be silver glitter paint - and that was where his trail ended. This was the capper on what had already been the worst day ever for Caine, who was still despondent over the attack.

“Is there anything that can interfere with a Lycantant’s sense of smell?" Jupiter asked Stinger.

“If Lord Balem is far enough underground, Caine might have trouble getting the scent. Or if he’s already off-planet. There are also some herbs that can do the trick.”

Whatever it was had to have been pretty potent, because for all intents and purposes it was as if Balem had vanished off the face of the Earth.

 

…

 

Balem came back to himself in a small, grey room full of green. He could hear music.

He sat up, wincing as the blood rushed to his head. He was on a cot, surrounded by growing plants. The small room  - about the size of a large closet, really - was warm and humid, lit by artificial lights. This was an indoor garden.

No, not a garden - this was a farming operation. This was a crop. A heavy, overwhelmingly pungent herbal smell suffused the place, coating the insides of his nostrils and his throat with its essence. If the color green had a scent, it was this. His head was swimming with it.

His first rational thought was to question why someone would do this indoors, when he realization came to him suddenly that it was because these plants were supposed to be hidden. They were hidden because they were contraband. 

There was a large bandage covering most of his chest. He didn’t touch it. He didn’t want to look. Whoever had bandaged his wounds had dressed him in a pair of grey drawstring pants which were much too long and practically swallowed him. Balem regarded the worn, threadbare fabric with a shudder of disgust as he gingerly stood, fighting waves of light-headedness and nausea. He touched the stud behind his ear.

Nothing.

He pressed it again in panic. 

_No. It can't have been damaged! Surely the network cannot be down. Surely not!_

_Where am I? Who else is here?_

He remembered the man from the alleyway, the dimly glimpsed figures in the darkness as his rescuer grabbed him and ran away into the night. 

_Who are these people? Why would they risk their lives for me?_

He wondered how they’d stopped Tzikarus from catching them all and ripping them limb from limb. He experienced a stab of paranoid fear; where was Tzikarus? Was the turncoat still tracking him? Had Chicanery Night and Gimlet been in on the plot? 

The music echoed, vibrating in through the walls. He could tell it wasn’t a recording. Someone was practicing on an acoustic guitar. He heard what sounded like a couple of abrupt false starts, which he realized must actually be part of the song when the player launched into a complicated solo that went on for several minutes. He stood on the threshold, mesmerized.

There was a pause, and a strident voice sang a single line:

_“And the meek shall inherit the Earth.”_

Balem surged forward with a cry of rage, bursting through the doorway with the force of an offended god - though his legs were apparently not up to the task. His knees buckled, and he hit the concrete floor with a yelp of pain.

The guitar player was a young woman - barely more than an adolescent, really. Tall, nearly as tall as he was, with pale hair that looked bleached. She stood from where she’d been sitting with her instrument on a low, narrow bed. The walls were festooned with garish hangings that gleamed eye-searingly in the dim light of the room’s single blacklight bulb.

“Oh my god,” the young woman said. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still out. You shouldn't even be able to move right now.” She took a step towards him, heedless of his outrage.

“What is your name?” Balem demanded.

“I’m Gladys,” she said.

“Listen to _me_ , Gladys,”  he rasped. “The Earth is _mine_ , by right of inheritance. The meek have no say in the matter.” He tried to push himself up, and felt a stab of pain from his chest.

“You shouldn’t do that, you’ll rip your stitches!” Gladys protested. “Riley, he’s awake!” she called. She reached down making as if to help him up, and he snarled, lurching back from her. He grabbed the bandage, tearing it it away in a single movement. 

Stitches. The primitives had _stitched_ him. He wailed in horror, jamming his finger into the stud behind his ear. There was no hum of connection, no response at all.

The large man who had challenged Tzikarus barreled into the room.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now, but we have to get you back into bed,” he said.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Balem shouted. He tried once again to get to his feet, and was tackled, arms pinned to his chest. The man lifted him as effortlessly as he had back in the alley.

“Hit him again, Gladys!” Balem’s captor said. Balem felt her hovering over him, felt the sting of a needle in his arm. He tried to struggle, but it was no good. He went limp as the darkness reached out once again to claim him.


End file.
